Dining in the Last Chance Restaurant

Yesterday evening, as every last locus of conviviality – pubs, restaurants, cafes, clubs, leisure centres, libraries – prepared to close down on government orders, Mrs N and I determined to have one last meal out. Disappointingly, the arts centre bar that has become our local had already shut down, as had the best dining-out pub in the vicinity, so we took a train (at least they're still running) one stop to see what we'd find. Happily the best local restaurant was still open, so in we went. Two jolly ladies were drinking in the bar front of house, but we had the large dining area to ourselves for some while. Eventually another (much younger) couple turned up, then a table of four (younger again) and one more couple – and that was it. It all felt extremely strange, like the last days of... What? England as we know it, I suppose, at least for a while – a while that might be long and wearisome.
  Whatever the health arguments, is it really wise to close things down on this kind of scale? The effects will be profound. To quote R.R. Reno's editorial in First Things:

Earlier generations understood that institutions anchor our lives. That’s why German children went to school throughout World War II, even when their cities were being reduced to rubble. That’s why Boy Scouts conducted activities during the Spanish flu pandemic and churches were open. We’ve lost this wisdom. In this time of crisis, when our need for these anchors is all the greater, our leaders have deliberately atomized millions of people. 

Society is a living organism, not a machine that can be stopped and started at our convenience. A person who is hospitalized and must lie in bed loses function rapidly, which is why nurses push patients to get up and walk as soon as possible after sicknesses and operations. The same holds true for societies. If the shutdown continues for too long, we will lose social function

I hope he's wrong.
  On last night's news, just to add insult to injury, there was Fergal 'make 'em cry' Keane in the Derbyshire village of Eyam, telling the oft-told story of how the villagers quarantined themselves to save others from the plague. Obviously we were being invited to draw lessons from this, and – absurdly – to equate Covid-19 with bubonic plague. I'm glad to say Fergal didn't manage to draw a tear from the doughty locals.

Meanwhile, as I discovered this morning, panic buying has now reached the point that not a toilet roll is to be found on sale for miles around. Some people seem already to have lost social function.